


with enough gumption and a side of hubris

by beetime



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Greed Comes Back, Greed and Ling Are Brothers, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Post-Canon, bc i want him to, i just wanted a sappy reunion sue me, period
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-25 19:38:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17731376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beetime/pseuds/beetime
Summary: The night’s black and windy, lifting his hair off his face with every passing turn. The stars are vast, cresting in a dome around the lights of the city, and when Ling looks up, he can see himself right below the Serpent.Ling shuts his eyes. It’s black there too. No wind. No stars.Just darkness, yawning and foreign.Alone.✦greed comes back for no real reason.





	1. yawning and

**Author's Note:**

> listen, i love greed as much as anyone else. i was crying upon my brotherhood rewatch and wrote the first part through the tears then continued bc fuck if that fools staying dead on my part.   
> i was gonna not post this bc who would read it in this day and age but then it got so long that i was like "eh, fuck it, why not."
> 
> MAYBE im years too late but iosdjvjm BE QUIET

He had work to do the night of the Promised Day. Plans for travel and guides to coordinate and transport to set up. Ling had to get home. He had to get Lan Fan and Mei home too.

Instead, Ling mourned.

Which he felt he shouldn’t have been doing, because they had won, hadn’t they? Al was whole and the world was no longer in peril and Ling could take the Stone back to Xing and bring peace to his clan, finally. This was as happy a day as any.

But they had a body to cremate and—

And—

The worst part was that he couldn’t even grieve with Lan Fan. Not entirely. They had sat in their hospital room, Mei sleeping in the other bed a few feet away, and Lan Fan had quietly shaken out her sorrow into a damp patch in his shoulder until the tears lulled her to sleep.

And he cried, but there was so much more than his grief for Fu, a person he loved and admired, considered one of the pivotal pieces of his few family. There was...

There was the yawning emptiness where there had been so much to fill it up before.

Gone.

Ripped away.

_A piece of himself._

_How could they compare?_

He waits, makes sure she’s deeply down, before he slips out from under her and climbs out through the open window, scaling the wall with relative ease. There’s a phantom instinct in him to do something to make this easier, _Claws out, kid, what’s a little more property dam—_ , but he has to shut it up.

He sits on the very edge of the half wall rising from the roof, crossing his legs with his hands resting on his knees.

The night’s black and windy, lifting his hair off his face with every passing turn. The stars are vast, cresting in a dome around the lights of the city in the middle of a celebration, and when Ling looks up, he can see himself right below the Serpent.

Ling shuts his eyes. It’s black there too. No wind. No stars.

Just darkness, yawning and foreign.

Alone.

Ling’s sobs bend him. He bows to the sun as it rises and just thinks about the fact that so many people won’t be able to see it again.

 

_Just you wait, Ling. This'll all be mine one day. Just you wait._

 

It’s Lan Fan’s hands on his shoulders but Ed’s voice, quiet and sad.

“Ling." He doesn't startle. He's too tried to react. "Come with us.”

He lets himself be led with his eyes closed, because just maybe—

It doesn’t. He doesn’t. And Ling doesn’t expect it.

Ling stops expecting him for a long time.


	2. familiar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **four years later**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and so im finally getting rid of this. gang!

_There was the darkness, yawning and familiar. He hated it—its_ loneliness,  _of all things. God, someone was definitely messing with him._

_God, probably._

_It was nothing. There was nothing to feel or see because how could he, how could he be when he was not—_  he _was nothing. How could he when he was but a consciousness strung together by a few loose memories and the will to—_

_He spoke. For the first time in so long._

 ✦

Ling jerked awake, eyes flying open. Lan Fan was already coming in through the window, silently kneeling at the side of the bed with her mask pushed up.

“Ling?”

Breathing. Breathing was always appreciated after those dreams, when it felt like he’d been holding his breath the entire night, when all there was was the dark, the dark.

He sat up, heaving air into his lungs like it was food and he was a starving man, who  _knew_  oxygen could taste so sweet? Lan Fan took the cue as to what had happened and sat back on her heels. She took his hand and squeezed it, “Was it the darkness?”

He nodded and let his head fall into his free hand, raking it up into his hair.

Four years now, he’d been having the exact same dream pretty much every other night, waking up without breath and a sense of being so incredibly lonely it felt like a physical thing lodged in his chest. The first time he’d had it was barely a week after the Promised Day, on the way to Xing, and it’d been happening ever since.

Lan Fan had had to calm him down because it’d felt so much like—

It wasn’t. It couldn’t have been. He didn’t have the luxury to be so hopeful, even in his own head.

The dreaming didn’t get better, but the waking up did. If it wasn’t Lan Fan, it was Ed, throwing an arm and a leg around him to mumble drool-stained affirmations into Ling’s hair. He was traveling for the month, though, going to meet with Al in one of the northern sectors.

“You spoke,” Lan Fan said. Ling looked at her. She wasn’t giving him anything to go off of in her expression.

He’d never spoken before. Not with those dreams. If anything it felt  _hard_ to, like his throat was closed up after a long time of not using it.

“What’d I say?”

She pursed her lips. Squeezed his hand again.

“I want to live.”

✦

They chalked it up to an outlier occurrence. He’d had enough near-death experiences to think that before, and it wasn’t like he didn’t still have nightmares of those times.

✦

And with that the dreams just.

✦

Stopped.

✦

For almost a year.

✦

And because there was someone out there always making sure Ling couldn’t have it too good, the next time he had the dream, it was after passing out. One second teasing Al about the fact he very obviously wasn’t just making the trip over to the palace to catch up when one Mei Chan lived not an hour or so away, the next—

✦ 

_There was the darkness, yawning and familiar._

_He would kill for something to drink._

_No, that wasn’t true. To kill would mean to finally have someone else here with him. He really was getting pathetic, wasn’t he. He would laugh if he could._

_This shit was getting fucking_ old _if he had to be honest—_

_Wh—_

_What the—_

_That can’t be—_

_Huh?_

_✦_

“A light,” he gasped, bolted upright, holding on to—Ed’s wrists from where he’d been shaking Ling’s arms. The words practically trampled themselves as they ripped out of his throat.

Ed held him tighter, and Ling thought he had double vision until he realized it was both Ed and Al’s faces hovering over his, worried in the same regard. Ed spoke, however, “What? Ling, what happened?”

It was the back of Lan Fan’s hand pressing into his clammy forehead, cool and callused as ever, “Are you alright, my lord?”

Was he—

He didn’t even know. He didn’t even know how to describe the soaring feeling coursing through him, almost enough to make him actually sick. He looked around at their faces.

He laughed. Tipped forward into Ed’s chest to muffle it because it—it was as if he couldn’t control it, as if it wasn’t even coming from  _him_.

“I-I’m fine.”

Ed put a careful hand on his head and muttered, “Do we need to call a doctor?”

“No,” Ling said quickly and pulled back, pressing a hand over his racing heart. “No, it’s just—

“There was a light.”

✦

“I’m not crazy—“

“We’re not saying you’re crazy,” Ed interrupted, scowling. He always scowled when he was thinking and despite the fact he seemed to be trying for apprehensive, he still had Ling’s feet in his lap.

Al nodded. Where Ed scowled, Alphonse puffed out his cheeks. “It’s just—It’s a lot to take in, Ling. It’s been years.”

“I know.” He leaned over the side of the arm of the settee, shutting his eyes tightly. “I know how it sounds. I know it  _sounds_  crazy, but I swear it’s—It hasn’t been years, for me.” The room got quieter. As if no one dared to even breathe.

Ed put a hand around his ankle. Lan Fan spoke very slowly, “What do you mean?”

He sat up properly once again. The only person he could really look at was Ed because he was the only one who knew the true extent of the dreams, of how despite the fact he felt like himself in the darkness, the thoughts didn’t come in his voice.

“The dreams’ve always felt like him. Every single time I’ve woken up, it’s been thinking he’d be there for just a second. Sometimes I’d let myself think it was real, because even if it was, the feeling of the darkness was so suffocating, there was no possible way for him to come back from it. There  _shouldn’t_  be any possible way for him to come back. He’s dead. We all saw him die. He should be—“

He realized his eyes were wet and pressed the heels of his hands into them, rubbing them down over his face to fold over his mouth. They might have been shaking. Ed took one in his.

“But there was a  _light._  And I felt like I could finally breathe.”

That loaded gun silence. Ling folded his legs up enough to lean his elbow on his knees and put his face in his hand, nose pushing up against his palm. He groaned. “It could just be nothing. I haven’t slept much since I’ve been going over the Drachman refugee policies. It could just be that.”

Ed tugged his arm, narrowing his eyes, “You don’t just pass out and have  _visions_  because you haven’t slept well for a couple of days.”

“You’re not a good advocate for a healthy sleep schedule,” Ling muttered.

“I am,” Al piped up. “He’s right.”

Ling made a vague motion for him to shut up. No, he wasn’t looking for actual logic. Just an excuse to close the subject.

✦

“You can talk to me about it, y’know,” Ed said from his position on the bed, watching Ling pull on his sleep clothes. His foot gets stuck in the pant leg and he almost falls face forward, using the bedpost for support.

Ed snorted, “Emperor of Xing, everybody.” Ling shot him a look that was half-hearted at best because he was about to laugh too.

He decided against risking putting on a shirt and slid under the covers, tucking his face into Ed’s side and breathing in. Ed got an arm around his shoulders. Ling could feel him curling his hair around his hand.

He pulled it a bit, “I’m serious, Ling. You can.”

“I know,” Ling responded, muffled. He pulled away, rolling onto his back. The ceiling’s design of constellations and celestial beings could’ve been done by an actual artisan, made a piece of work to be known for centuries. The actual sky was, a beautifully deep mosaic of blues, whites, and purples. The constellations and flourishes were supposed to be done too. Ling considered it for a second before seeing Alphonse’s mock ups for it and deciding they could just do it themselves.

Of course, most of the creatures painted by Ed or Lan Fan seemed more like half-formed bits of failed alchemy, but those might just be the parts he loved the most. It was only after they were finished that Ling realized Serpens was right above his side of the bed, gold and silver and stark.

Ed shifted to match his position, still playing with his hair, “So do you want to?”

Ling stuck his tongue between his teeth. “No.” He bit it and waved a hand, “Yes. But I don’t know what else I can say. It’s impossible, Ed.”

“I think we’re well beyond the point of calling anything impossible,” Ed said, wiggling the very much flesh fingers of his right hand over Ling’s face. He made to bite at them, too, and Ed yelped. He thumped Ling’s forehead, “Hey! I don’t want to have to go all the way back to Amestris to get automail  _fingers_. “

“But Winry’s been so keen on seeing you lately,” Ling said sweetly.

Ed sank lower into the bed, scoffing, “I owe her money. And you’re trying to get me off topic.”

“And I’ll have to resort to dirtier tactics if you don’t let me succeed now,” Ling said back, catching Ed’s hand as it lowered and pressing a kiss to the very center of his palm.

“Won’t work,” Ed said. He rolled them so he was splaying his impossibly cold automail leg on top of Ling's thighs, effectively pinning him and stopping whatever plans Ling'd had to distract him. 

 

✦

The dreams stopped permanently. No more darkness. No more loneliness.

✦

 _Those_  dreams anyway.

✦ 

_There’s light, new and exhilarating. The landscape’s familiar towns and pathways._

_They really made that guy the Furher, huh? Good for him. He’s tempted to go up to him and tell him to shave off that stupid ass moustache. Or do it himself. But he’d probably snitch and he wasn’t too keen on being found out just yet._

_There’s people. He has a voice. He doesn’t get tired but if the occasional couple offers him food and a place to sit his ass down, well, he’s taking everything he can get, right?_

✦ 

 

_There’s light, new and exhausting. The landscape’s gold and ever changing._

_Doesn’t anyone ever get tired of all this damn sand? He thought everything in nature had to have a goddamn purpose. The fuck’s the point of this shit?_

_Whatever. Half-past Xerxes and away we go._

✦

 

_There’s light, finally familiar again. He isn’t surprised to see the sun rise anymore. The landscape isn’t familiar, now, but it ain’t hard on the eyes._

_It’s more colorful than Amestris, if he had to compare, more history evident in the buildings and the fields and fields of people and communities. He’s been here before. Just not as himself. Not this version. Maybe he should learn how to read Xingese._

✦

The celebration for the birthday of one of his advisors (one he likes, thankfully), Huan Jao, was fun and not at all grand. He’s humbler than the others, part of the reason why Ling likes him.

He invited his extended family and friends apart from the obligatory royal court and they eat with one of Jao’s grandfathers attempting to do magic tricks while the smaller children in the family crowd around Alphonse and Ed to ask about alchemy and Amestris.

Ling watched contentedly, slightly drunk and very full. Ed looked good around children (he looked good, period), mostly due to the fact they didn’t mind his energy and exaggerations. He was using one of Ling’s ribbons to keep his hair tied back but he took it off in order to try and tie it to the crown of Al’s head to demonstrate what he looked like in his armor form. Ling melted. Lan Fan elbowed him to sit up discreetly, covering it by coughing.

“Let me be, Lan Fan. I get to ogle.”

Lan Fan gave him an amused look, “You’re pathetic, my lord.”

Ling sighed, sitting back, “Aren’t I?”

The night ended with a firework show in the gardens, and it was one of the many times Ling wished he could blend into the crowd to just  _be_  with everybody else. Ed broke away from the crowded front balcony to sidle in next to Ling, taking his hand from where it was hidden behind his robes.

Ling leaned his head on his shoulder because who was going to tell him not to?

“You drunk?” Ed muttered and Ling glanced up to see the curve of his mouth.

Ling put a finger up, “Tipsy. Very different. The wine was good.”

Ed snorted. Ling wanted to kiss him.

When everything was over and they were back in the room, he did. Sloppily, but Ed fixed that, snickering all the while. He helped Ling out of the robes and sat him down on the edge of the bed when he had comfortable clothes on to wipe the makeup off with a warm washcloth. He even brushed Ling’s hair, kneeling behind him. Ling leaned back to stop him as he did, eyes starting to close on their own accord, “You don’t have to do all this, you know.”

“I want to,” Ed responded simply and pushed his head back. “Al’s preaching all this self-care shit and you have early meetings tomorrow. You’re gonna sleep in, rush out looking like even more of a mess, and everybody’s gonna ask me, ‘Oh, Edward Elric, golden hero of the West, how could you even  _consider_  courting  _that_ —‘”

“Say it louder for Lan Fan to hear you so she can come in here and kick your ass for sullying my good name.”

Ed stayed quiet for a second and grumbled, “I could take her if I wasn’t so damn tired. You’re safe for now.”

“Right, that’s why,” Ling mused.

Ed tossed the brush onto cushions at the foot of the bed and leaned over Ling’s face, narrowing his eyes. With the added shadows of the curtain of his hair, they looked like some kind of rich spice, dark and swirling. He poked Ling’s cheek, “Fuck off.”

Ling kissed his nose. Ed grabbed him around the shoulders and dragged him back, making incoherent threats despite the rising flush to his cheeks. He threw one arm over Ling’s stomach and leaned his cheek against his temple, still muttering.

Ling pat a spread hand over his face, shushing, “Sleepy time. I love you and good night and all that now shut up.”

Ed barely managed to lick his hand, burrowing deeper into his side and mumbling a final, “Love you too, you royal pain in the ass,” before Ling fell asleep.

✦ 

 

_There were lights like bombs in all kinds of colors. That seemed about right._

_Couldn’t be that hard, could it? Scaling it was easy enough and the kid’d really outdone himself, hadn’t he. This place wasn’t half-bad. Worth ruling over._

_Now if he could just figure out—_

_Ah. Bingo._

✦

He woke up as if all the alcohol had left his bloodstream on command. Something in him told him to be alert and he sat up, scanning the room. There was nothing. Not in there, at least. But something  _was going to be_. He could feel it.

The dragon’s pulse was loud in his ears.

 _No_.

He had to carefully take Ed’s arm off him to get up. Ed made a noise of question and Ling ran his hand down his back, “It’s fine, my love, go back to sleep. I’m just gonna check something with Lan Fan.”

He picked his  _dao_  up from where it was leaning next to the bed on his way out, holding it ready in his hand.

The moon hung perfectly halved in the sky. Lan Fan was already on her balcony a few feet to the left, not even wearing her automail since it was in maintenance, but wielding her own sword. She looked at him, eyes wide, “Do you feel it too?”

He nodded. His stomach curled.

“It’s…” She glanced out toward the city and back. “Familiar.”

“Very much so, yeah,” Ling said, swallowing the feeling.

Then the pulse jumped and  _sharpened._

_Your right, coming close, fast._

Ling ducked, catching the legs of whoever the hell thought it was a good idea to lunge at him from the next balcony over,  _whoever the hell, as if you don’t know_ , aiming to get him on his stomach. He twisted away but Ling was expecting that, of course he was, they’d fought as  _one_ , so he followed the movement to pin him on his back instead. He shoved one bare foot into the dead center of his chest, the point of his sword pressed to his throat.

Lan Fan had just landed on the balcony. She smacked her hand over her mouth audibly.

His hair was different than how Ling had seen it in the memories, curlier than it was spiked. But the nose was just as hawk-ish and the teeth as sharp where they were shown off in a smirk.

His eyes were no different. For a second, Ling thought he might have been looking into a mirror.

“Greed,” he said faintly, leaning forward on the hilt of his sword, “long time no see.”

The smirk vanished. He rose an eyebrow, narrowing his eyes, “Huh. Gotta say, not exactly the warm welcome I was expecting.”

Ling glanced up at Lan Fan. She met it with sharp eyes.

They had the same intent.

Ling grabbed Greed by the collar before he could think to register it and clocked him directly in the nose.

Kicking and bashing at Greed with their swords wasn’t exactly how Ling pictured their reunion either, but he’d never really pictured a reunion in the first place, so.

“What the  _hell_  did you think you were  _doing_ —“

“ _Ow_ —What the  _fuck_ , Ling—“

“What kind of  _bullshit_ was that,  _ejecting_  yourself from my body on some self-sacrificing— And you’ve been on your way to Xing for  _how long_  and you couldn’t send a  _letter_  instead of—“ he finally landed a solid kick to Greed’s side and he grabbed Ling’s ankle, yanking him down so he fell on his ass. Lan Fan tried to take that hand for it but Greed yelped and pulled it back. Ling just hit him with the sword one more time, met with the familiar  _clang_  of it against the Shield. “Instead of trying to  _break into my room_ —“

Greed scrambled away, back hitting the railing of the balcony. His nose had just finished healing. He put his hands up, “Who said I was gonna  _break into your room_ —“

Ling motioned wildly with the sword, “Where else would you being going around here? Are you here for Lan Fan instead?”

“Answer that very carefully,” Lan Fan growled.

“Okay, fine, I was gonna break into your room  _a little_ ,” he conceded and dropped his hands. He scowled, “Now if I had known I’d be attacked, I would’ve just knocked on the front door like everybody else.”

“No,” they answered in unison. Greed shrugged.

That was weird to look at. A motion he could recognize as his own on someone else. It occurred to him that he was  _looking_ at Greed. Physically. An actual person he’s able to attack and kick and yell at without looking like he needed to be put in a mental institution where he’d always just been a face in Ling’s mind.

He let the sword fall and got up on his knees. Greed watched him.

“The darkness,” Ling said and Greed’s eyes widened. “It was you?”

Greed reached up to scratch at the back of his neck, seemingly indifferent (and not), “How’d you know?”

_Lonely. So unbearably lonely._

“Dreams. A lot of them. When…” He motioned him up and down, “How?”

Greed flattened his mouth into a line and leaned his head back. He dropped his hand again to lace both together in his lap, twiddling his thumbs absently. The motion was strangely human on him. “Not sure actually. I was just minding my business, wallowing in self-pity as one does then poof,” he made a fanciful motion, “I was physical again. I woke up next to an eight foot tall statue of our very own Edward Elric, so I think you can imagine what a jolt that was.”

Right where Ed had managed to kill Father. The center of the battle of the Promised Day.

Greed blew a stream of air out the side of his mouth and sat up straight, finally meeting Ling’s eye head on, “I’ve been turning it over in my head for a while. Nobody’s stepped up to claim my resurrection or anything so I don’t really know how yet but. I think… I guess I just had enough life left in me.”

_I want to live._

Ling thought he felt something in himself release. He wasn’t sure what, but it was what made him surge forward to throw his arms around Greed’s neck. He froze, predictably, and Ling didn’t really care. He squeezed for a second and said, “I missed you, you useless parasite.”

And he did. He really did.

Greed’s shoulders slumped. He rose one hand to pat Ling’s back, “Yeah, yeah… Guess I didn’t just come to Xing for the scenery.” The smirk was back, “Though having an in with the emperor doesn’t hurt.”

Ling sat back, returning it, “Oh, that’s funny. You think we’re letting you stay here?”

“Figured you have two options,” Greed said, standing and cracking his back. “You scram and give me your room, which I assume is the most lavish, or you open wide and I start trying to bunk back in there,” he poked Ling’s forehead, “boot first.”

Ling held back a laugh and stood too. Lan Fan gave him and Greed a flat look in turns, “The best and third option is I stick you with a whale hook and let you hobble back to Amestris.”

“Not my personal preference, but I’ll consider it,” Greed said, putting his hands on his hips to lean back on his heels. Ling wasn’t sure if it was the fact that he just  _knew_ Greed so he could detect the undertone of worry there or if Greed had just gotten bad at hiding his emotions after so long with nothing.

He flicked the  _dao_  into the air with his foot to catch it. For Greed’s sake, he made his voice as indifferent as possible, “You can stay by my good graces. You’ll have to be in the room until we can find an excuse for your being here, though.”

“I can be Lan Fan’s beard.”

“And I can be Greed’s downfall.”

“Hey, c’mon, I literally just got back.”

It felt real once they were back inside. Greed was looking around the room like he was upraising every object for the fairest price to pawn it off and Ling made a mental note to categorize everything later.

“Not too shabby,” Greed said and Ling could have sworn he meant it genuinely. He pointed at a sword positioned over the desk, one of the many decorations hanging on the walls, “Though you sure have developed a gaudy sense of style since I’ve been gone. A skull, really?”

Ling grinned, recalling how delighted Ed had been when Al had successfully been able to alchemize an almost exact copy of the sword from Gluttony’s stomach, “As if you’re one to talk with your—“

Greed grabbed his arm suddenly. Ling glanced down at his hand before looking at his face. He was staring at the bed. He pointed, “Are you aware there’s a person sleeping in your bed?”

Oh. Right.

But really all that was visible was a head of long blonde hair buried under the blankets. Ed had turned so his back was facing the balcony.

Ling calmly responded, “Yes, why?”

Greed gawked at him. Then back at the bed. Then back at him. He barked a quiet laugh, “You got a girl? You sly dog.”

Oh.

 _Oh_.

Ling looked again.

Oh, this was going to be fun.

“I hate the both of you,” Lan Fan deadpanned as Ling struggled to shove down his smile. He shushed her with a hand and pried Greed’s off him.

“Give me a second.”

He circled around to crouch in front of Ed’s face, brushing some of the hair away from it. Ed peeked one eye open and closed it again, shaking his head. “Too dark. Not yet.”

From his glance at Greed, it looked like he was still very much under the impression this was not Edward Elric. He was curious alright, enough to not notice Lan Fan putting her head in her hand behind him.

“We have a visitor, sunshine,” he whispered back.

Ed slit both eyes open then, hissing, “Today? Before the sun’s even up? Since when?”

“Surprise visitation.”

He sat up in one fluid motion, rubbing at one of his cheeks and the  _look_ on Greed’s face, Ling was going to  _combust_ , “Who the hell even does that—“

_“Huh?”_

Ed whipped his head around. His jaw dropped open at the same time as Greed’s and it was, all in all, one of the best moments of Ling’s life. They gaped at each other for a good three seconds before giving a hauntingly in sync yell of, “What the  _fuck_?!”

He had to fall over. He was wheezing by the time Ed was jumping out of the bed to grab him by the collar, “Ling, what the hell is this? What—“ He looked back and took a step away, still gawking, “ _What?_ ”

“I thought I’d live long enough to overthrow you, but this is gonna be what kills me,” Greed gasped, falling back onto the settee with a hand clutching his chest. “Oh my everloving fuck. God.”

“Is this real?” Ed said loudly. “Am I dreaming?”

“I’m flattered you’d dream about me.”

Ed grabbed the thing nearest to him—one of the thick research books Alphonse had let him borrow—and chucked it at Greed. He caught it with one hand, peering at the cover, “Ha, missed me—“ Ed threw the sequel.

Greed glared as his nose healed once again with the same old crackle of red energy, “Nice to know you’re not any different.” He looked at Ling and pointed, “Really?”

Ling nodded, “Yeah.”

“I want to say I’m not surprised, but you kind of got me there. I wasn’t expecting that.  _God_.”

“Wait,” Ed said and he calmed down, hackles lowering. He looked at Ling, “Wait, so… The dreams? They were him?”

Ling nodded once more.

“Oh.”

“Yeah,  _oh_ ,” Greed repeated. He made a fanciful gesture through the air, “I am gone but not forgotten.”

“My God,” Ed whispered. “It’s really you.”

“Well, yeah,” Greed said and shut up as Ed slowly made his way over to him. He backed up into the couch. “What are you doing?”

He repeated the question multiple times at varying levels of volume and pitch until he's almost screeching it when Ed finally hugged him. He struggled for a second before Ed squeezed him once, seemingly into submission, and Greed stopped to throw a confused look in Ling's direction, "Since when's he this cuddly wuddly—"

They had to pry Ed off Greed to stop the slow strangulation. Ed finally let go with a scream of, "Don't  _ever_ pull shit like that again, or I'll make you  _wish_ you  _stayed dead_ —" that Ling had to toss him onto the bed to stop.

Greed had been going blue, gasping for air.

But he was smiling.

✦

He sat on the very edge of the pointed top of the palace. The sun's rising over his country, painting the buildings and his people in shades of blue and purple. The moon was still hanging in its halved state behind him.

Another body settled next to his. Different, sure, strange. Familiar anyway.

"I can see why you risked everything for this," Greed said, hushed. It's respectful, in a way, and Ling should have found that strange too. He didn't.

Ling tilted his head back to let the warmth of the morning wash over him. He shut his eyes for a brief moment and Greed continued, "Though things are gonna be a little bit different when I'm rulin' it."

Ling let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding.

He grinned, letting his head fall in Greed's direction. He was in almost the exact same position as Ling, legs outstretched, leaning back on his hands. Ling thought it was a trick of the dark last night, but seeing it now, Greed's tattoo wasn't as stark. The red had dimmed down to a faded pink. Barely more than a birthmark.

Ling looked up again. "Still on that?"

"Oh, definitely," Greed said seriously. He brought up one hand to pick at his sharp teeth with his pinky, shrugging, "Just, y'know. It'll be postponed as I come to terms with the whole 'wanting friendship' thing, but after that, oh, you're in trouble, your Highness."

"Is that a threat?" Ling asked, arching an eyebrow in the haughtiest way possible. "I could get you executed for that. One could call it high treason."

Greed glanced over at him. He was doing an amazing job at looking indifferent, but Ling knew him better than he knew himself.

Greed smirked. Ling looked away and let out a small snort.

It wasn't long before Greed gave a shaky exhale of a laugh.

They were doubled over into the morning, laughing at the horizon as it broke, and Ling thought that he truly did have everything now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know the ending's weak but i just wanted to get rid of this skskksksk wig.

**Author's Note:**

> why's it edling? for the culture. and because writing ed's fun.
> 
> comments and kudos help me thrive


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